Chapter 24
Riley
The security monitor’s blue light cast Dungar’s face in sharp relief, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the intensity in his dark eyes. We sat together in the dimly lit command center, the soft hum of equipment providing a backdrop to the tension crackling between us.
“Movement at checkpoint four,” I said, tapping the screen where a shadow shifted near the northern perimeter fence. “Still coming closer.”
Dungar nodded, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he took notes and coordinated with his brothers. “Ruugar confirms visual contact.” His voice remained calm, but I could feel the coiled energy in his frame, like a predator preparing to pounce.
The walkie-talkie crackled. “A solitary figure approaching from the north access road,” Tark reported, his voice low. “They’re carrying a big dark case.”
On the thermal imaging camera, the heat signature of the intruder glowed orange against the cool blue background, moving toward the luminook pens.
“They’re keeping their face down,” I noted as the figure passed beneath one of our hidden cameras. “And their jacket is bulky enough to disguise body type.”
“Professional.”
“Or trying to look like it.” I leaned closer to the screen, something about their movement triggering my instincts. “Wait—there.” I pointed to a second figure approaching from the east. “And there,” I added as a third emerged from the tree line on the west.
“They could be splitting up.” Dungar’s frown deepened. “Targeting multiple access points simultaneously.”
“Smart. They could be trying to overwhelm our response capabilities.”
What they didn’t know was that we’d anticipated this exact scenario. Dungar had mapped out contingency plans for up to eight simultaneous breach attempts. He’d foreseen this tactic before I’d even considered it.
“Hail and Becken are in position to intercept from the eastern approach if need be,” Dungar said, his finger hovering over the radio. “Sel and Tark have the western area.”
The figures converged on the luminook pens, each carrying boxes a lot like the ones we’d seen Mary load into the back of her truck that they set down outside one of the pens.
“All teams,” Dungar spoke into the radio softly. “Stand ready but do not engage. Let them begin their operation before we move in. We need evidence.”
We watched as one of them moved to the gate, opened it, then waved for the other two to lift their boxes again and enter. When all three were inside and opening the tops of their boxes, Dungar lifted his radio.
“Move,” he said to his brothers. “Let’s capture our thieves.”
The command erupted into motion. I bolted, following Dungar as he burst through the office door into the cool night air. My heart roared up into my throat as we sprinted toward the luminook pens, our boots pounding the packed earth.
I could make out the hulking silhouettes of Dungar’s brothers emerging from their concealed positions as well. Ruugar appeared first, the others not long behind, each closing off escapes from differing approaches.
As we stormed closer, the three figures at the pens froze, their heads snapping up.
“Lift your hands and back away from the boxes,” Dungar snarled.
Three pairs of hands shot skyward in surrender.
“Sheriff’s department,” I said. “You’re trespassing on private property.”
One of them turned my way, and my breath caught.
“Mary,” I breathed, then louder, “Mary Pickens.”
She pulled off her hat, revealing her familiar face pinched with anxiety. “Deputy James, thank goodness.” She gaped at the orcs surrounding her, Ava, and Joyce. “What’s going on?”
“We caught you,” I said.
Dungar stepped closer to Mary, pulling sets of handcuffs from his back pocket. “You tampered with our perimeter fence. You’ve been surveilling our property for days, planning to steal luminook specimens for illegal sale.”
“What? No.” Mary’s voice cracked. “We’re not stealing anything. We’re here on official business. Surely you of all people know that.”
“What are you talking about?” I studied their faces for signs of deception, finding surprise more than anything else. “Breaking into private property in the middle at night hardly seems official.”
“But we’re not breaking in,” Ava said. “We have permission. We’re supposed to be here.”
Dungar’s expression hardened. “I think I’d know if I’d authorized anyone to access our luminook habitat after hours.”
“Ruugar, secure them,” I said, watching as the biggest Bronish brother take the cuffs from Dungar. “Hands behind your backs.”
“This is a mistake,” Joyce whimpered as Ruugar gently but firmly guided her hands into position. “We’re not criminals.”
I approached the boxes while Dungar questioned the suspects. “What’s in the containers?”
“Just supplies,” Mary said quickly. “Nothing harmful, I swear.”
I crouched beside the nearest box, using my flashlight to examine the contents. Instead of cages or the scientific equipment I’d expected, I found an assortment of stones shot through with glowing veins, small cloth bags that smelled of rich earth, and delicate plants I didn’t recognize.
“Dungar,” I called, lifting one of the luminescent stones. “You need to see this.”
While his brothers remained ready to bind the three women, Dungar moved to my side, his body brushing against mine as he stooped down to peer into the box. His brow furrowed as he cataloged the contents of the first. “These are drakestone fragments.”
“They are,” Sel said, joining us.
Tark grunted, pointing. “And tunnel moss from our deep caverns.”
I peered into the second container, finding soil in carefully labeled jars, crystalline formations, and what appeared to be mineral-rich water in sealed vials. The third box contained additional plant specimens, all arranged with meticulous care.
“This isn’t theft equipment.” I couldn’t make sense of it. This didn’t fit with what we’d assumed was happening. “These look like habitat supplements.”
“Exactly.” Mary’s smile came shaky. “We’re trying to help the luminooks adjust to surface conditions by providing elements from their natural underground environment.
We would’ve driven closer, but my truck got a flat tire not far from here.
We opted to bring the boxes and take care of the luminooks first before changing the tire. ”
Dungar straightened, his expression skeptical. “And you’re all doing this under whose authority?”
“The orc king himself,” she said. “I asked him during his visit last month if there was anything I could do to help the transition process. He said Ruugar was struggling with keeping the luminooks comfortable in surface-level enclosures.”
My pulse stuttered. “You met the orc king?”
“About three weeks ago,” Mary said, seeking Dungar’s gaze for confirmation; he nodded.
“Remember? He toured the facility and spent hours observing the luminooks. I mentioned my background in xenobiology, though my experience is from years ago, and he was very interested in my suggestions. I have a degree from the University of Maine.” Her words tumbled out in a rush.
“I taught there for a while before deciding I’d had enough.
My specialty was in interspecies habitat adaptation.
When the king mentioned you were having trouble with the luminooks’ feeding patterns and sleep cycles, I offered to help. ”
Dungar’s jaw tightened, and I could see him running through his mental files, trying to place this information within his carefully organized system. “I would’ve been notified of any official arrangement.”
“You were supposed to be,” Mary insisted. “The king said he’d send documentation to you directly. That’s why I thought you knew. I assumed you’d told your brothers about our work. The supplies came last night, but we were busy today, so I opted to take care of this tonight instead.”
“What do you two have to do with all this?” I asked Joyce and Ava.
“I’m just here to help,” Joyce said quickly. “Mary asked if I wanted to contribute to an important project. She said they needed extra hands to carry supplies.”
“And the phone call you made yesterday? The one about everything being ready for tonight?” Dungar asked.
Joyce’s eyes widened. “I was confirming with Ava that she’d be able to make it. She wasn’t sure her equipment would be ready in time.”
“Equipment?” Dungar growled.
Ava lifted her camera. “For documentation. The king suggested detailed photographs of the process might be important for the royal archives. This is the first time surface-dwellers have attempted to recreate deep-cavern conditions for luminook care.”
I studied their faces, searching for tells, for the flickers across faces that would suggest deception. But their fear appeared genuine. I didn’t see any body language that might point to guilt.
“When did you last communicate with the king?” I asked Mary.
“Two days ago. He sent final approval for the installation of what’s inside the boxes.” Mary’s voice rose. “The timing was crucial—luminooks are most receptive to environmental changes during the new moon phase. I’m sure you know that.”
I didn’t, but I bet Ruugar and Dungar did.
I could tell Dungar was perplexed, however.
“You’re certain I was supposed to receive official documentation?” Ruugar said.
“The king told me he’d send it,” Mary said. “He said it would arrive about a week ago, that you’d coordinate with your brothers about the timing after that. I almost mentioned it, but you’ve been so busy lately, I opted to proceed, assuming you knew and approved of what would happen.”
I watched his carefully controlled composure crack around the edges.
His entire life operated on systems, on proper channels and documented procedures.
If the king had truly authorized this project, Dungar would’ve received notification.
He would’ve created files, schedules, plans to ensure complete success.
“There’s been no official communication,” Dungar said, frustration blooming in his voice.
“But that’s impossible,” Mary said. “The king specifically told me—”
“The king’s visits are always coordinated through my office.” Dungar straightened the items in his utility belt, a sign of his increasing stress. “All official business here goes through proper channels.”
“I don’t know why you didn’t receive the message,” Mary said.
I suspected it would be simple to confirm their story, which meant…
Dungar’s gaze met mine, and I could see the same realization dawning in his eyes.
If Mary, Ava, and Joyce weren’t the thieves, then who was?
And what had we missed while we’d been watching the wrong people?